


The Appointment

by incandescentchampagneproblems



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Explicit Language, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-08
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-13 14:48:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29280213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/incandescentchampagneproblems/pseuds/incandescentchampagneproblems
Summary: What happens when Sharon makes Bucky and Sam go to "couples" counseling?
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Sam Wilson
Comments: 8
Kudos: 142





	The Appointment

**Author's Note:**

> This is based on the newest trailer for Falcon and the Winter Soldier. I thought it might be fun to see what the "couples" counseling session might be like! This is my first ever fanfic that I'm posting, so all thoughts and comments and critiques are welcome!

“Why does Sam aggravate you?”

Bucky glanced up from the table and shot the woman a sly smirk. “I don’t think we have that kind of time, Doc.” To his left, he heard Sam snort with slight annoyance. “Why do you wanna know, anyhow?” 

“I’m just trying to help.” Standard therapist reply. Well, at least, Bucky thought it was. He’d actually never been to a therapist before. If he had his way--he never would have. He didn’t need to talk to some lady with a degree in reading people’s minds. He’d had enough mind games for a lifetime--or several, actually. For once, he’d like to retain control over his thoughts, thank you very much. 

“Then you can start by ending this session.” His reply was cool, level. He had been working on his temper lately. Bucky knew that getting upset at their therapist wouldn’t be the most brilliant plan he had, so he opted for general standoffishness. He thought it was the lesser of two evils and a pretty decent way to get going faster. 

Behind him, he heard a loud cough. Apparently, someone did not agree with his idea. 

“Sharon, would you like to say something?” The doctor tilted her head, looking away from the gentlemen and toward the blonde skulking in the back. 

Hands arose quickly, a tone of innocence laced her words. “Me? Oh no, I’m just here for moral support. Y’know, men, they might not look it--but deep down they just want a shoulder to lean on. That’s me. A shoulder.” She smiled before quickly muttering under her breath. “Or a swift kick in the ass.” 

Both men turned to look at her, the intensity of their glares boring straight into her. Sharon didn’t flinch though. Instead, she stared right back. “Work it out.” She shooed them, reaching for a magazine--yet another issue on the Avengers. Jesus, these guys don’t even exist anymore and they’re still anyone can talk about?

“Alright,” A soft sigh passed through the therapist’s lips as she looked back at her clients again. “Let’s start from the top. Mr. Barnes, why does Sam aggravate you?” 

Not this shit again. Bucky groaned, rubbing his face with his hands. Clearly, Sharon wasn’t going to let them leave this godforsaken room until something had been worked out, so he either played the game or made all of their lives living hell for an hour. 

“Because he’s aggravating.” Living hell it was. 

“Wow, a man of many words. Why don’t you write a book next time, James.” Sam taunted softly. 

A flash of fury burned in Bucky’s eyes but he clenched his first to channel his anger. No one called him James. Not even his mother, when she was alive. James was not who he was, not who he’d ever been. It was a placeholder, a memory of his father who passed just after World War I. A father Bucky had never known. Not that he needed Sam to remind him of that. 

“That seemed to bother you. Did you want to talk about it?” The irritatingly calm voice of the woman in front of him nearly sent Bucky into a rage fit. However, taking a deep breath, he shook his head. 

“No--why don’t you ask him why I piss him off if you’re so curious? He seems to have a lot to say.”

The woman looked over at Sam expectantly. “So, why does Ja--” She glanced over at Bucky, rethinking her initial name choice. “Bucky aggravate you, Mr. Wilson?” 

“Easy. Because he's a sore loser and a control freak.” Sam shrugged as if he’d been waiting forever for someone to ask him. 

“Wait--hold on. A sore---a sore loser?” Oh fuck this, no way was he going to try and hold his temper now. “Need I remind who told you Steve was waiting to give you the damn shield?”

“Yeah, and you’ve been an asshole about it ever since.” 

“Excuse me if I don’t bow to the feet of the new Captain America. I didn’t do that before either, Wilson.” 

“No, but that’s because Steve was Steve. Barnes, don’t even try to deny it doesn’t piss you off, even a little bit, that you aren’t the new Cap.” 

For a moment, Bucky stopped. Did he want the shield? Sure, he was a little hurt when Steve chose Sam instead of Bucky at the end. Of course he was--a little hurt might have been the understatement of the year. But it wasn’t because Bucky wanted that damn shield. Who the hell wants to take the place of a literal living legend? And it wasn’t like Bucky could have, even if he wanted to. The world knew him to be a trained killer--a mindless robot. He couldn’t just slap on red, white, and blue and call it good. Whether he liked it or not, Bucky was going to have to live his whole life paying for a choice he never made. Now that pissed him off. 

No, what hurt Bucky was that Steve had chosen to say goodbye to Sam instead of him. He’d chosen his new friend to be the last person he spoke with, not his longest, best friend. So much for “till the end of the line.” The rejection stung worse than any mental agony he’d ever gone through. Forget the shield. Forget the mantle. All Bucky had wanted was his best friend back, his life back. But nope. Just silence and a fool parading around as some relic from a different time. 

“Like I’d want to tote around some patriotic frisbee and get called the Star-Spangled Man with a Plan.” He huffed and crossed his arms, glaring at Sam. 

The therapist looked at both of them. She’d had tough cases, but this--this felt next level. She had never imagined she’d be trying to sort out the relationship of two….superheros. Not that anyone could know--HIPAA still applied to the super-powered. “Ok--so clearly Bucky seems to not be interested in the role you now have Sam. What did you say about being a…”

“Control freak? Sure. He always wants some sort of plan. To know our next 20 steps. Like sure, foresight is great and all but when you’re in our line of work--it’s a luxury not a given.”   
“I just want some semblance of a direction, for god’s sake! If I’m going to be jumping out of a plane, don’t you think it’d be nice to know what I’m doing when I get to the ground?” Bucky gave the woman an exasperated look. She nodded--it wasn’t in her training to side with either party, but the man had a point. 

“There’s a difference between wanting to know a general direction and trying to control the whole op, Barnes. Something you don’t seem to understand.” Sam narrowed his eyes at Bucky frustratedly. There were few things in life that Sam Wilson hated deeply and being disrespected was one of them. Someone choosing to disregard his orders? It infuriated him to no end. Especially because it emphasized just how green he was at this whole thing--being Captain America. It wasn’t that he wasn’t grateful that Steve had given him such a gift. No, no he was still floored that he had chosen him, Sam Wilson, to carry on the title. But he was...well, he wasn’t the obvious choice. His gaze shifted to Bucky again, who was staring at the ground. He would have assumed Bucky would have been the rightful “heir” but...Sam’s vision fell to the mechanical arm that reflected the fluorescents back harshly. Well, perhaps his first reason for disliking Bucky wasn’t completely fair. But he was a control freak. 

“Just because you have the wings and the blessing of Steve does not mean you are the de facto leader of this group,” Bucky growled. 

“On the contrary, I think it does,” Sam grunted, turning his body so he could stare directly at the male. 

Bucky, for his part, immediately understood the game. Flipping his chair around quickly, his gaze never left Sam’s. No blinking, no movement. Just Sam and Bucky’s vision locked on each other. 

A good ol’ fashioned staring contest. Now there was a bravado that was supported in any time period. 

“W--what are you doing?” The therapist asked, bewildered about where this appointment had gone. Never in her wildest dreams did she imagine this to be the way her last therapy session would go. “The point of therapy is to use your words--gentleman, please!”

A few more minutes go by--the therapist tried her hardest to get them to talk about their feelings. Why do you think you need to be the leader, Mr. Barnes? Mr. Wilson, do you feel like there has been some miscommunication between you and Bucky? Have you tried to talk to each other about these issues before? 

Finally, as the woman became more than exasperated with her line of questioning, Sharon spoke up. 

“Sweet Jesus--just blink already!” She shouted, snapping her fingers as Sam looked away. “For god’s sake, you’re acting like children.” She rolled her eyes and went back to her magazine. “Answer the poor woman’s questions already or you both get to sit in the back on the way home.” 

Bucky grinned, realizing he’d won the contest. “Look, if it makes you feel better, I’ll stop trying to take over every mission.” No guarantees he could actually resist, but if it got them out of the room faster, he’d say anything. The man was beginning to get hungry and that did not bode well for his attitude. 

“Bullshit--but since you said it, I’ll start reminding you to make sure it actually happens.” A small smirk appeared on Sam’s lips. “And I’ll stop acting as if you’re a whiny piss baby for not getting the shield.” 

Bucky rolled his eyes before Sam spoke again. “And I’ll stop calling you James.” Ah, now there was something he could get behind. 

“Wow, well I--” The therapist cleared her throat and straightened her outfit. “Excellent, all in a day’s work.” The whole room furrowed their brows at her, but she maintained her stance. “You came in here to communicate better, and it looks like you did. I see no reason to not celebrate this as a win.” 

“Whatever, now can we leave? I hear the golden arches calling my name,” Bucky replied, moving swiftly to the doors. 

“Oh hell no--we are not doing McDonalds when Burger King is an option,” Sam called, stepping in front of Bucky to get to the door first. 

“Uhm, who the fuck wants Burger King--Mickey D’s is so much better. At least their fries are stellar, unlike the sad little potato sticks you get with a Whopper.” 

“Now I know you didn’t just call BK fries sad and little.”

“And what if I did?”

The therapist groaned, sinking down into her seat. 

“Uh boys?” The jingle of car keys interrupted their argument and they turned to look at Sharon. “As the driver of the vehicle, I actually think it’s my choice where we go.” Immediately, the men groaned. 

“Sharon, please--for the love of all things holy…”

“...No--Sharon, I know Bucky can be annoying but don’t take it out on me…”

Sharon just grinned widely and chuckled as she opened the door. “Such cry babies--since when did two superheroes whine over a fast food restaurant?”

“When that restaurant is Taco Bell!” They both shouted in unison, slightly surprised at the teamwork. 

“Huh, who would have thought that all it took to get you guys to work together was burritos and a Baja Blast?” She mused softly and nodded toward the garage. “Now let’s get a move on--I don’t have all day and happy hour ends in 20 minutes.” 

A large sigh escaped both of the men as they looked at each other. 

“Next time, grab the keys,” Bucky groaned as they followed the blonde. 

“Way ahead of you, partner,” Sam replied with frustration. 

“Same time next week?” The therapist called as they exited the room. Before the men could respond in the negative, Sharon nodded. 

“See you then, Betsy!”


End file.
